Star Wars: Knightfall
by Chuck Deuces
Summary: Strap in with Jedi Master Alin Samera as he and his squadron battle against adversity, tragedy, and betrayal at every turn in a journey in which their fate is already ultimately decided...
1. Knightfall

**Star Wars: Knightfall**

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

An end to the Clone Wars is near. Their utter defeat from the Battle of Coruscant has the Separatist movement in heavy retreat. With their leader, COUNT DOOKU, dead at the hands of Jedi Knight ANAKIN SKYWALKER, the Separatists have grown desperate in their attempts to main a foothold on the galactic inner core.

Behind the scenes, the Sith Lord, DARTH SIDIOUS, has played both sides and has maneuvered himself into a position in which the galaxy will be his. To do this, Sidious must first eliminate his only threat—the only threat the Sith have ever faced: The Jedi.

Jedi Master ALIN SAMERA leads the SABERS, an elite group of Jedi pilots. The Sabers, veterans of the Battle of Coruscant, are the spearhead for the naval operation to support Jedi Master KI-ADI-MUNDI and his Clone battalions in the retaking the planet of RHEN VAR…


	2. 1: Execution of the Order

1-

Clone fighter pilot Typhus Bronski sat strapped in tightly behind the controls of his Incom ARC 170 Starfighter. The sweat coating his brow made Typhus wish his helmet had a retractable visor. Flying combat missions since the near-upstart of the Clone Wars, still couldn't prepare the clone pilot for the uneasy feeling he felt before every battle—this time was no different. A glance behind him at his co-pilot and rear gunner told him that they were ready to sortie. He could only imagine that they, too, were feeling the same.

Typhus felt his right hand twitch—an annoying reaction from having been over-exposed to vacuum. In an instant, Typhus was back in high orbit around Coruscant, entrenched in heavy combat in what had become known as the Battle of Coruscant. A lucky concussion missile shot tagged his fighter killing his two crewmates and forced him extravehicular. A piece of errand shrapnel from the explosion pierced his hand and his life support magnetic containment field to collapse around the wound. As if it were just yesterday, he could see the Vulture Droid fighter orient on him and at that instant he knew he was dead.

The bass-filled voice of the Jedi Wing-commander thundered into his comm breaking him out of his reverie.

"Commander Bronski, are your pilots ready for launch?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We launch in thirty. Good hunting out there. And may the Force be with you."

"And you, General."

Typhus thought about that for a brief moment. For as long as he could remember, he _knew _about the Force, but he never _understood _it. It was entirely beyond him, really. But he knew the Force was there. He'd seen the Jedi utilize it. From his understanding that was where they drew all their power from. But then again, he realized, he wasn't there to study the way of the Jedi. Typhus was there for one thing: to follow in the Sabers and deliver their payload—nothing more, nothing less.

His eyes narrowed as the six Kuat Systems Eta-2 _Actis_ Interceptors to the right of the spacious hangar bay lifted up on repulsorlifts. The _Actis _Interceptors, commissioned and built for use by the Jedi, were formidable starfighters. Typhus managed a thin smile as the lead fighter fed power to the twin-ion engines, inverted and dove out of the hangar bay. That lead starfighter was the same one that saved him from death during the Battle of Couruscant. There was no way he could ever forget the striking black streak running down the center of the sleek starfighter. He owed the Jedi General his life.

And that was when the same thundering voice from before boomed back into Typhus' comm unit—this time being broadcast on a fleet-wide frequency.

"This is Jedi Master Alin Samera. Saber Flight is going to punch a hole in their formation. Once we're through, hit them with everything we've got."

"You heard the General. Let's move it, Hammers."

With that, Typhus killed his repulsorlifts and jetted down and out of the hangar bay just behind the Jedi group who by now had already engaged the enemy Vulture Droid fighters. Behind them, he could see the war-torn world of Rhen Var.

"S-foils to attack position. Arm proton torps. Hold your fire until we receive the order from General Samera."

He glanced at his mission clock that now read thirty-six seconds. Ahead of him and ahead of the Jedi fighters space erupted in golden balls of fire and gas. Typhus almost felt sorry for the droid fighters that were vaped under the deadly skill of General Samera's Saber Flight. He watched in virtual-amazement as the _Actis_ Interceptors of Saber Flight wreaked havoc on the enemy fighter groups that were foolishly thrown their way. The six Jedi Starfighters closed in with each other and executed a formation he'd never seen used in combat.

Typhus glanced at his sensor board to see another wave of red dots disappear.

"All 170s, this is General Samera, we're through. Fire at will. Fire at will."

The clone pilot brought his targeting reticle down on the Trade Federation cruiser looming dead ahead and waited for it to turn red. In the brief moment it took to acquire a lock, his holocomm activated and a holograph of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's hooded figure materialized.

Typhus watched the hologram intently even as the sound of a good lock resonated through the cockpit.

The Chancellor's hologram uttered one phrase before fading away.

"Execute Order Sixty-Six."

Typhus didn't have time to reply. In fact the only thing he had time to do was bring his targeting reticle down on his new target. Instantly, the clone got a target lock and squeezed the trigger firing off a single proton torpedo even as his right hand twitched uncontrollably.

There was no remorse or regret for what he had just done.


	3. 2: Desperate Measures

2-

Jedi Master Alin Samera winced as the explosion of a Vulture Droid narrowly skimmed his _Actis_ Interceptor's unshielded hull. His R4 unit, R4-D3, loosed a high-pitch squeal and quick check to port and starboard told him that his wingmen were staying in tight formation. As more fighters rained from the Venerator-class Star Destroyer's ventral bay, Alin punched the throttle. His group was on a rapid relative descent into the Separatist and they were going in hot.

The world of Rhen Var dominated the background as the space battle erupted. Alin's thoughts were on his comrade and friend, Ki-Adi, leader of the ground forces that were responsible for liberating this rock. Alin's job was just to make sure the victory on the ground remained one in space. Although the mission profile seemed simple enough, the Jedi Master could not shake the eerie feeling that this whole battle was doomed before they had even launched.

The Force was not with them today, he knew it.

Alin shook the thought off and refocused himself on the objective. Ahead of him another wave of fighters raced in at them and began unloading. A sea of red laser bolts prompted him to put his _Actis_ in a tight barrel roll. He tagged one of the oncoming Vultures and watched his rangefinder as numbers continued to scroll down. Over the course of the war, the Sabers had perfected a sort of Jedi Battle Meld allowing them to communicate without using conventional means. It had proven invaluable in past trials. Today would be no different.

_Sabers, show me corkscrew formation three._

On cue, the five Jedi Starfighters tightened up their wedge. Saber Six, Jedi Knight Meryl Krisanja inverted and brought her starfighter up and back down as to take the lead of the formation. Saber Five followed suit as did Four, and so on until the six _Actis _Interceptors twisted and rolled with precision impossible for anyone but Jedi pilots. A storm of laser cannon fire unloaded into the oncoming Vulture formation drilling a hole through the final wave of anti-starfighter defenses.

Alin keyed his comm.

"All 170s, this is General Samera, we're through. Fire at will. Fire at will."

No sooner did the Jedi Master give the order to commence attack did an image of an _Actis_ being destroyed flash in his mind. The Force premonition distracted Alin for a brief moment as he tried to make sense of it. The Force was trying to tell him something—but what?

Without warning a shrill warning blared in his cockpit. He was painted with a target lock. The shrill warning evened out and was replaced by a beep. The increasing frequency of the beeps indicated that the missile was incoming. His R4 wailed uncontrollably.

_Sabers: All evasive, NOW!_

Expertly, Alin's Saber Flight broke formation and scattered. But it was already too late for his wingman, Saber Two, Jedi Knight Li Ettyk, as his _Actis_ exploded brilliantly, causing Alin to shield his eyes. Shrapnel pinged off of his starfighter's hull as he brought it out of a climb that was too great for his inertial compensator to compensate for. He allowed himself a brief moment to mourn as he realized the gravity of what happened. His R4 continued to scream uncontrolably.

"R4, Pipe down!"Alin's thoughts were no longer succinct enough for the Battle Meld to remain effective so he punched up his unit's tactical frequency on his comm. "The clones. They've turned on us!" He didn't need to add that the battle was lost.

In an instant, his thoughts were on Ki-Adi-Mundi and a split-second later, Alin felt his comrade die just as he'd felt Li die.

"Sithspawn! Sabers, counterstrike pattern four!"

The other four Jedi Starfighters formed up into wing pairs and swooped up and away.

So many thoughts flooded the Jedi Master's head but he would need to survive this day before he could address them. He focused on doing exactly that. He tweaked his thrust to zero, applied etheric rudder to port and punched the throttle back to full, putting him in a flat spin that oriented him on the treacherous clone pilot Tyhpus Bronski and his Hammer Flight.

Alin made his _Actis_ Interceptor dance as he evaded the flurry of incoming fire with little effort. He brought the nose of his fighter up and inverted then side slipped to port before he brought his fighter back down. A tear ran down the contour of Alin's cheek as he thumbed weapon control to Ion cannons and let fly.

A steady stream of azure bolts of energy unloaded from his _Actis'_ second pair of cannons. No bit of evasive piloting would spare the clone pilot or his ARC-170. The ion blasts reached their target and blue lightning danced all over the clone fighter before it went dark and every system crashed.

The Jedi Master stood his fighter up on its starboard wing as he halved in between the 170 formation and brought it around impossibly fast even for a Jedi. Without waiting for his reticle to come down on his next target, Alin opened fire pelting another of the ARC-170s with an unrelenting barrage of ion blasts, until it, too, became a victim of system failure. Utilizing the _Actis'_ greater mobility, Alin jammed the throttle forward and raced back ahead of the four remaining 170s. The focused their attention _and_ firepower on him, leaving them vulnerable.

His fighter began to rattle under the assault, but a glance at his sensor board told him that he wouldn't need to hold out much longer as each the Saber wing pairs arced around. His astromech blared another panicked warning. Alin ignored it.

Behind him, the four 170s were engulfed in blue lighting as a pair of Jedi Starfighters came in hot from their unsuspecting flanks. They blasted past the derelict fighters to take up flanking positions on each side of Alin—standard wedge formation.

"Master Samera, what next?"

That, from Tem Aznable, Saber Three.

"We make a break for it. These Interceptors aren't hyperspace capable, so unless we find a hidden cache of hyperdrive rings, we're not going anywhere. We run planet side and find an out-of-the-way port and see if we can arrange transport for us and our fighters back to Coruscant and find out what's happened. We can be sure this isn't an isolated occurrence. You've all felt the disturbances in the Force."

Alin's voice became low—almost scared.

"Jedi are dying everywhere."

The Jedi Master snorted as a group of blue dots appeared on his sensor board coming in on heading two-seventy. They were sending another group after his Jedi group. Part of him wanted to embrace the anger that threatened to consume him. The clones that the Jedi fought with—died with—had betrayed them. Alin wanted to make them all pay; wanted to destroy them all. He shook away the thought. Revenge and anger were of the Dark Side.

Aside from that, the situation was a tactical impossibility.

"Saber Flight, on me. Prepare for planetary re-entry in fifteen. Let's get low. Let's get fast."

Gracefully, Alin peeled off and brought his _Actis_ starfighter around for a planetary approach with Saber Flight following closely in his wake. The gravitational field of Rhen Var tugged at Alin's Interceptor. He flipped an overhead switch that narrowed the _Actis'_ wing profile for non-combat flight. Static burst in over the comm unit as the Sabers entered Rhen Var's atmosphere.

For Master Alin Samera and Saber Flight, the Clone Wars now had a new objective—survival.


	4. 3: Securing Transport

-3-

Patrons forced themselves away from their lomin-ale filled mugs and the Twi'lek dancers to watch the special news report coming in on every Holo-Net channel.

"Former Supreme Chancellor, now Emperor Palpatine has just concluded the emergency Senate meeting and has completely dissolved the Republic into what he calls the new Galactic Empire. I repeat: has completely dissolved the Republic. This comes in light of the apparent conspiracy by the Jedi to overthrow the Republic and combat the rampant claims of corruption. More as it's made available."

The bartender flipped off the screen and chastised his customers. The more they focused on some report from Coruscant, the more he lost business.

---

Pulsing lights in sync with the thrumming bass created the vibrant atmosphere that earned the Radiant Eclipse Cantina its name. Drunken patrons sauntered about, flirting and fraternizing as if they were oblivious to the fact that half a world away, the world was at war.

The cloaked figures of Alin Samera and Meryl Krisanja entered the cantina cautiously, the infectious music reaching their ears subliminally inviting them to dance. Alin surveyed his surroundings and made mental notes of all the exits. In all his years on Coruscant, he'd seen how things operated in those lower level cantinas, and this was no different. Seedy characters decorated the Radiant Eclipse.

Even without the Force, Alin could sense the tension. He immediately assumed it had to do with the fighting on the other side of Rhen Var, but would stock his concerns away once he'd secured transport for he and his squadron. Something here…

…_isn't right. I feel it too, Master._

The Jedi Master glanced over his shoulder at Meryl and continued surveying his surroundings. He could sense everyone's eyes on them as they made their way through. His Sabers touched down in a secluded forest a handful of kilometers outside of the city where the Radiant Eclipse was located. Their orders were simple—if he and Meryl hadn't returned within two hours, they were to attempt to make a run for it on sublights. And with the ominous atmosphere they found themselves in, he feared he would need to

A Twi'lek barmaid bumped into Alin as he approached the bar, welcomed by the gruff voice of the stocky bartender.

"What can I do ya' for? Whyren's Reserve? Lomin-ale?"

A solemn smile from the Jedi Master and then an answer.

"I'm looking for transport off this rock."

The bartender loosed a throaty laugh. "Any other day, you'd be in luck. Most of these scoundrels in here could give you what you need." He beckoned for Alin to come closer as if he were about to betray a secret. "You do know there's a war being fought, right now?" The bartender whispered.

Alin knew, that by now, Rhen Var was no longer in Seperatist hands, but now a Republic planet. To him, it mattered little whose blockade they would need to run. They needed to get to the Jedi Temple and uncover what was going on before, as he felt it, the Dark Side engulfed everything.

The Jedi Master could feel Meryl's eyes on him as he simply waved his hand before the bartender.

"I'm looking for transport."

This time, the bartender sang a different tune. He pointed to the rear of the bar in the dimmed recesses where he could make out two silhouettes through clouds of smoke.

Alin and Meryl nodded appreciatively as they slowly battled their way through the unruly crowd of people until they neared the back of the bar where two men rested. The first man was focused on the scantily clad Twi'lek barmaids and dancers than the first, whose eyes seemed to be in the process of scheming and plotting. The second man they saw was a little different had powerful shoulders, a neatly stenciled beard and dark brown, trusting eyes. The Jedi Master and his Knight companion drew nearer to the booth the two men occupied and spoke at the first man.

"How much for the transport of five small ships and five humanoids to Coruscant?"

"Your pockets ain't that deep. It's impossible to get of this rock. Seperatists have this place blockaded and I'm not about to risk my ship if the price ain't right."

"Name your price."

The two transport pilots shared a look of amusement and leaned in to conference briefly.

"We want five hundred thousand."

Alin held back the urge to wince. A simple wave of his hand as he spoke: "You want to take the price down a little, yes?"

The first man, now apparently sober, managed a half-entertained smirk as he stuck out his hand, swiping up a pitcher of Lomin-ale from a waitress walking by. He filled his mug and topped it off with foam before he stared coldly back into the eyes of the Jedi Master.

"No wonder the Separatists are winning this war. Mind tricks don't work, Jedi. Five hundred K, or find another way off this rock."

Left no room to better his situation, Alin caved to the fee.

"I can give you three hundred here and the other two hundred when we arrive to Coruscant."

The man stood from his seat in the booth, and towered over Alin menacingly. The Jedi's hands found the cold cylinder that was his lightsaber and could feel Meryl's alarm in the Force as she too tensed on the activation thud.

_Not yet, Meryl. Not yet. _

The huge man smiled sinisterly into the Jedi's face and was reined in by the smaller man.

"You've got yourself a transport. The name's Baron Copel, and that over there is my co-pilot, Booster Terrik."

At that instant, Alin and Meryl relaxed as they feared, for just an instant, they would not escape the cantina without the shedding of unnecessary blood.

"It's a pleasure, Mister Terrik. I'm Alin Samera. This is Meryl Krisanja."

Meryl nodded customarily before calmly observing their surroundings once more.

"Meet us at dry dock twelve. My ship's called the _Pulsar Skate_. Here is my comlink frequency." Baron slid Alin a small piece of flimsipaper. "If there is any change in plans, contact me. And on my end, I'll do the same."

"We have an accord, Captain Copel."

Just as Alin turned to exit, a commotion broke out at the cantina's entrance. Discharges from DC-15 Blaster Rifles sounded out amidst the raucous and the Jedi Master already had his lightsaber drawn. It was time to…

_GO!__I'm right behind you, Master, _sent Meryl through the Force.

The Jedi broke into a full sprint leading with an open left hand using the Force to part unruly bar patrons out of his way. As they drew to the exit, a pair of Clone Troopers peered in rifles first. Before they could open fire, Alin somersaulted high into the air, and at the apex of his leap ignited the green blade of his lightsaber with a snap-hiss. He sliced down, scything the blaster rifles into charred and smoking halves. Upon landing, he incapacitated one of the Clone Troopers by slicing him cleanly at the legs.

Following up in the blink of an eye, Meryl carved through the immaculate armor of the remaining Clone Trooper separating his shoulder from the torso with no resistance.

Just arriving as they prepared to make their exit was another pair of BARC Speeder Bikes, two Clone Troops on each bike.

No longer calm enough to communicate effectively through the Force, Meryl turned to face the new arrivals, "Master!"

_Take the left! _He sent through the Force.

And with that, the two Jedi charged, their blades of emerald and topaz shining beacons against an expanding darkness.


End file.
